Want You to Know
by M. D. Jensen
Summary: Pointless, angsty, fluffy SayidShannon Shayid. Through Shannon’s eyes as Sayid finally decides he must tell her about his past. Much shippage.


Disclaimer: I do not own Shannon, Sayid, or _Lost_ itself. The song Iris, from which I got the title,is by the Goo Goo Dolls and it is horribly over-used in fanfiction but hey, whoever said I was creative?

Summary: Pointless, angsty, fluffy Sayid/Shannon (Shayid). Through Shannon's eyes as Sayid finally decides he must tell her about his past. Much shippage. Apologies that Shannon is a little OOC, but I personally think I managed to capture Sayid nicely. Opinions, please?

_Want You to Know_

She found him sitting by the ocean's edge, a few hundred feet down the beach from where the main 'beacher' encampment was. Here the trees were nearer the water, and the birds could be heard chirping loudly.

He was sitting with his knees bent in front of them, hands resting on the sand behind his back. The way he looked out at the sunset was brooding, but that was nothing new with him. Still Shannon was worried. Sayid hadn't been himself lately (not that she knew very well what him being 'himself' was like.) Things had been going well between the two of them, in the past two weeks since she had first helped him with Danielle's notes. But abruptly, a few days ago, he had stopped seeking her out for company. And she intended to find out why.

His position didn't openly invite her presence, but she marched straight up to him and sat down beside him anyway. "Hi," she greeted.

"Hey," he replied. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah. If you mean back at the camp, yeah, everyone's fine. But everyone's busy." She left that to imply that she missed him. He was the only one who truly included her in things, she felt. "Are you all right?" She asked tentatively.

"I'm fine, yes," Sayid said, although he didn't sound it.

"That's good," Shannon said. "You haven't been around much lately."

"I was investigating," Sayid told her truthfully, turning to look at her as though this was the most important thing in the world. "Locke gave me a compass, trying to help me decipher the French woman's map. But the directions on the compass, they don't match…"

"You know what I mean." Shannon broke in. "You've had that compass for a week now, but it's only been distracting you these past few days. What's _really_ wrong, Sayid?"

Sayid faltered slightly, giving the distinct impression of someone who had been preparing a speech for hours but completely stalled once the moment came.

"I'm all right, really," he insisted.

"I miss you." There, she had come out and said it. "Now tell me why you're avoiding me."

Sayid didn't deny it, but it was a few minutes before he spoke. He stared back out at the sea and ran his hands through his hair, and Shannon was almost about to give up on him when he finally broke the silence.

"Shannon... over the past two weeks we've been spending most of our time together. I know that I still don't know you very well, but I-I care for you. I enjoy your company. Just being with you..." He smiled sadly, "makes me happy. In fact, when we are rescued... I would like to continue to see you. If that is all right." He paused, waiting for her to respond.

But Shannon was floored. What did you say to something like that? Their relationship was wrong on so many levels... for one, he was much older than her. And the circumstances under which they had met we're exactly ideal. And, although she hated the fact that it was even a factor, her rather xenophobic stepmother would never approve of her dating an Iraqi. It would just give her more reason to hate her stepdaughter. So what could she say? "Oh. Sayid..."

"Shannon... I need to know something. Because if you answer one way, there is something I must tell you, and I'd rather not if I didn't have to."

"Umm... okay?" Shannon tried not to look confused.

"Do you… feel similarly?"

Shannon smiled. She wasn't sure just why; she wasn't feeling particularly like smiling at the moment. She nodded.

But instead of looking happy, Sayid sighed. "Then I feel I must warn you of something."

"What?" Sayid wasn't meeting her eyes, and Shannon was growing concerned. "Sayid, what is it?"

"Shannon, you seem," he paused, searching for the word. Shannon realized suddenly that English was not his first language, and wondered how she could have been so stupid not to notice that before. "Pure. You seem pure. For lack of a better word." Again, Shannon didn't know how to respond; she had never thought of herself particularly in that way. Sayid spoke again. "I don't want to hurt you. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you."

"I know," Shannon said, her voice slightly squeaky.

"I'm not like you," he said quietly. "Not like anyone on this island."

"What are you saying?" Shannon whispered.

"I don't know if you'd understand…"

"Just tell me, Sayid!"

"I'm not a good person!" He blurted out suddenly. The bitterness and self-loathing with which he said it hit her like a slap and without meaning to, Shannon lurched back. The entire world seemed to fall silent. Even the ever-present birds stopped singing.

Sayid had turned his head and was looking off somewhere; Shannon had to move over slightly to catch his eye. Once she had his gaze in hers, though, she didn't let him turn away again. "I don't think that's the truth. I don't think you think that. What do you mean?"

There was a hint of desperation in Sayid's voice, something Shannon had never heard before. It didn't match with his deep, authoritative tones. It didn't suit him. "I don't know... if you could forgive me. Yes, Shannon―" his eyes were huge and almost frightened― "I do honestly believe that I am not a good person. I need someone… to forgive me. I don't think you'll understand. But I have to tell you, because you'd find out eventually anyway. I don't want to hurt you."

Shannon shook her head. "I don't know what you're saying, Sayid. I don't know what you want me to say."

Sayid looked away from her. "I was… a wartime soldier, Shannon. In many ways I think I will always be. I did things… to survive. To ensure that my family survived. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but now I am not so sure."

Shannon couldn't help herself. "What did you do? Is it that bad? Did you..." She stopped short, wondering if she should finish her sentance. _Kill anyone?_

Sayid turned slowly and looked straight at her. "Please, don't make me say it aloud." His gaze was pleading, his eyes shining.

_Please don't cry, Sayid_, Shannon thought desperately. _I wouldn't know what to do if you started to cry…_

Of course, he didn't. But his hands were in fists, she noted, to the extent that his nails must have pierced his skin by now. He didn't seem to notice, or maybe he just didn't mind.

"I won't make you say it," she whispered.

"Thank you," he replied. His head was bowed, and his black curls fell forward and encompassed his face like a shroud. He looked so mournful, so sad, that she had to do something. Moving entirely on instinct, she cupped his chin in one hand and lifted his head up. Eyes closed lightly, she kissed him tenderly on the forehead. It was the first time she had kissed anyone like that before, gently, sweetly. It was… pure. Maybe he had been right.

When she opened her eyes, Sayid was staring at her in amazement. He opened his mouth to speak.

"Don't," Shannon told him, holding a finger up to his lips like she had seen in the movies so many times. "Don't say anything just now. Sayid… I've known you, what, a resounding total of a month? But if a helicopter landed, right behind us, right this minute, and I never saw you again, I'd miss you. You're wrong, you know, I'm not innocent; but you're right… I probably couldn't understand why you did what you did, if you told me. But for what it's worth… I don't give a damn. I forgive you." Her heart was pounding; Shannon had never spoken like that before. She realized what it was; for once in her life, she was being completely, openly honest, with herself and someone else.

For what seemed like a full minute, Sayid was speechless. She couldn't really read his face; he seemed relieved, and happy, and tired, all at once, but tears were undeniably pooling in his eyes now. She waited for him to speak, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed her, right on the lips.

Something that Shannon had never felt before ran down her spine. This was the first time a kiss had ever been like this. She couldn't breathe, but this time… in a good way. It wasn't lustful, and it didn't feel wrong. It felt almost childlike, or rather, what she must have fantasized a kiss being like when she was a little girl. It didn't make her think of unbuttoning his shirt, or getting him in bed… rather, she wanted to wrap her arms around his shoulders and keep him there, with her, forever. So she did, pulling him closer until their foreheads were touching and their bodies pressed together. There were tears running down her cheeks, Shannon realized, but whose they were, she didn't know.

Instead of pulling away once they broke apart, Shannon buried her head in Sayid's hair. It was surprisingly soft, and she closed her eyes, feeling Sayid rest his chin on the top of her head.

"Shannon?" he murmured after a few minutes.

"Hmm?" She felt warm, and sleepy.

"Your brother will kill us."

Shannon laughed, the sound muffled by Sayid's neck. "I know."

"Shannon?"

"Yes?"

"You are absolutely incredible."

"I know."

Now Sayid laughed, then Shannon felt his arms tighten around her. "No really. You are amazing. Shannon… I don't know how to thank you."

"Well…" Shannon smiled, drawing back slightly so she could see his face. "It's getting kind of cold…"

"Should I get you a blanket?"

She grinned. "You take things too literally. What I mean is, just don't let me go." She nestled back into his arms.

"Shannon," Sayid sighed, happily, leaning his head back against hers. "I honestly don't think I could right now."

* * *

AN: Sap. Goo. Mush. Had fun writing it though. Please review! 


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